


grenade jumper

by brandywine421



Series: next of kin [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Deadpool - All Media Types, The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23939062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: "Finally gonna be a fancy college boy like your pa always wanted?""Dunno, are you finally going to be a brainless jarhead like your probation officer always wanted?"There was a long pause so they could get more of their clothes off without wasting the motel money.  It had been weeks since they found time alone together with Wade's group home curfew and Matt's meddling minders but he was eighteen today and Matt was close enough and they had three hours to get the sin out of their systems before the rest of their lives were set to begin.*Anon requested Matt/Wade fic via tumblr.
Relationships: Matt Murdock/Wade Wilson
Series: next of kin [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757083
Comments: 43
Kudos: 100





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sigh. IDK.

_Listen in_  
_it isn't when you're talking for your name's sake_  
_Jesus, Mary Magdalene_  
_you are,_  
_are you okay?_

_Sitting by the well, Jill,_  
_you're falling down the hill, Jack_  
_and everybody laughed,_  
_Don't you pray?_  
_Don't you pray?_

"Finally gonna be a fancy college boy like your pa always wanted?"

"Dunno, are you finally going to be a brainless jarhead like your probation officer always wanted?"

There was a long pause so they could get more of their clothes off without wasting the motel money. It had been weeks since they found time alone together with Wade's group home curfew and Matt's meddling minders but he was eighteen today and Matt was close enough and they had three hours to get the sin out of their systems before the rest of their lives were set to begin. 

Matt bared his throat and he snatched the stupid sunglasses from his face and pushed his fingers into his hair and sucked the first of many marks into his flesh - goddamn - 

"Language - " Matt laughed, throat rippling under his mouth.

"Fuck your language, ain't scared of no nun," Wade growled and Matt shoved him backwards a step to shimmy out of his jeans. He was distracted by the boxer briefs - and the bulge - gotta love that alliteration - 

"Boxer Brief Bulge, is that my claim to fame?" Matt asked with another rumbling laugh that he didn't get to taste - 

"We are wasting all the motel money," Wade decided and took back the step to manhandle him onto the bed.

* * *

They didn't get a summer, for shame, but Wade left New York with a light heart and a heavy ache between his cheeks (from smiling, you perverts). Matt didn't see him off at the airport like a mourning boyfriend, but he'd sent him to boot camp with a full hangover and a neatly printed list of phone numbers and addresses that he didn't need.

Wade bought Matt his first phone three weeks after they met and the banter and bicker had sealed the tether between them long before Matt punched him in the ribs and stuck his tongue in his mouth.

Good times.

But now Matt was answering phones at a college prep hotline for cash before his freshman year of goddamn college and Wade was running all the laps - seriously he hoped real combat wouldn't involve this much running - all the laps - and they were stuck with the phone calls and voicemails and care packages filled with lube and condoms and socks with zero snacks. 

He missed New York like a bad smell that he couldn't wash out, but he missed Matt Murdock like a crack pipe down to his bones and detox shakes. 

* * *

Rolled up like a burrito in a dorm room bed or sprawled across a motel bathroom with glitter on his face - Matt Murdock could find a way to slide a finger up his ass to earn a squeal around his tongue - but in his defense - Wade Wilson would find a way to pinch both his nipples at once to make his dick jump. 

Matt's real world friends - meaning people that worked for money instead of degrees - snitched out early on that they were more than fuckbuddies - and Wade's platoon friends - meaning the guys he spent every fucking second of every fucking day with - didn't have to figure it out since they didn't teach 'filters' in the Marines.

It was Matt's college friends that had the issue with their arrangement. "Why don't you call him your boooooyfriend" and "it's so cute that your boooooyfriend comes all this way to visit you". Wade wasn't Matt's boyfriend - or girlfriend - not that there was anything wrong with either - it was the label that was the problem.

He loved the crazy blind asshole but not *that* way, not the way he deserved. He loved him like a brother (okay, step-brother or foster or adopted brother, seriously - eyes up and out of the gutter guys) - like a best fucking friend that knew all the hidden parts of his personality that would make a long-term relationship feel like getting the maximum sentence over probation.

Matt was just Matt - Matt was his, to be sure, but not in a rage-jealousy kind of way - he was his in the way that he would always be there because he was, well, his. Just like Wade was for Matt - or would be if he ever lived in the same city as the guy for longer than leave time between tours.

Matt was family and if there had been a way to get him barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, Wade would have figured it out the first time he bent him over a barstool, but this - maintaining a lust and love that was more pure than anything they'd been exposed to as orphan delinquents - this worked for them.

His marine buddies could go home to wives and parents and children and have homemade dinners and sleep in their own beds - but Wade got to go home to Matt and have chimichangas from the taco truck and sleep wherever he was squatting. Matt called him his personal thunder-shirt because of his tendency to cling but there was nowhere he felt safer and more content than wrapped around his Matty.

Yuck, was he really that sappy?

Maybe so, but probably not.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got a lil out of hand but if the muses are okay with it, yolo.

The years went by faster for Wade when his team deployed on his second tour. Locked and loaded, on the grid and off, sanctioned and 'ask us after', on the meds and off - on the job and - always on the job. He was a soldier, a specialist - he was useful and fucking good at what he did. He learned an assortment of martial arts like riding a bunch of different bikes, could kill a man with or without his hands. He had skills - not the kind he could list on a job application but fucking skills.

He still called Matt, more than Frankie called his wife or Logan called his weird old man friend, but not quite as much as Curtis called his Ma, which was slightly reassuring - but they kept in touch like families were supposed to. 

On holidays when they were rarely stateside and local, Matt bought beers for the guys at the shitty bar near his shittier apartment and paid for cab rides and babysitters so they could visit without forgetting they were going back into firefights with each other at a moment's notice when orders came down.

The teams changed with each reenlistment but Wade was luckier - so much luckier - than most of the assholes he served with.

"Bill met your boy, couple of months back," Castle told him on one of their last stakeouts together before reassignments came down.

"And I didn't hear about it? Liar."

But Castle raised an eyebrow and grunted and - wow if he didn't hear about it then it must have been juicy. "Something you need to get off your chest? Spill."

"Just don't want you to bring him to the wrong barbecue, you know?" Frank swiped a finger across his cheek and he had a jiggle of memory. Pretty Boy Bill came back from break with a bruise there, didn't he? 

He didn't hide his grin. "Please tell me he put him down hard - you see him fight? God, he's fucking gorgeous when he's raging."

Castle glanced at him in surprise and let out a huff of laughter. "Kicked him right in the face and didn't drop his beer - Maria wouldn't tell me what he said, just that he deserved it. Murdock's got moves for a blind kid."

"He ain't been a kid since his dad died, but he's always been able to take care of himself. Best idea is to stay off his bad side."

"Yeah, Billy woulda probably been better off hearing that before he ran into him."

Wade wasn't sure how he felt about Matt hanging out with his friends without him but everyone wanted a lawyer in their contact list and Frank's wife had only been the first to hit him up for legal advice once he passed the bar.

"You ever think about taking him off the market? Heard he had a helluva time when that girl ditched him," Frank said after a long pause.

"Ouch, that was a gut punch, wasn't it? Didn't think Matty had a heart left to break until he met her so good riddance. Don't rub your wife's matchmaking on me, we're not that close," Wade warned. "I love Matt, just not in love with him and we are going to be just fine - asshole."

Frank huffed out another laugh and thankfully dropped the subject and left Wade to his daydreams of Matty kicking Bill in the face. He had to get the story on that.

It turned out to be a long time before Wade got it from the source - but after the last tour - it turned out to be a long time before Wade got to be be Wade at all.

* * *

There was a reenlistment. There was a tour. There was a Mission. Capital M Mission. There were no phone calls or letters or care packages - Only Mission. Then there was a lie and a coup and a whole lotta death and some viscera for extra credit and then there was no mission, no team and no Wade, Only Mission.

He didn't like to think about that. He could think about the months of clarity and fun and mayhem - Vanessa, he could always think about Vanessa - but the war and the Mission made it hard to breathe and hard to see - made him blind like - like - like - fuck, he couldn't think about the Only Mission times.

He thought he was over it - a functional member of society with a job that paid top dollar for his skills with a fiancee and a life and a future - but then the spackled blind spots leftover from the Only Mission were filled in with Only Cancer and revenge and Vanessa was one of the many, so fucking many, things he couldn't think about without his vision filling with static and rage.

There was always something - someone, no, it was more than just a someone - definitely something missing - before and after the Only Mission and Vanessa. He could never put his finger on it, never quite catch hold of it in the periphery.

Choking on saltwater - Atlantic seawater, what a Shyamalan twist that was - unmasked raw skin scrubbing in the sand by today's henchman snapped the thought into his miswired brain like a punch in the balls. He wanted to go home.

What did Deadpool know about home? Or even better, what did Wade know about home? There was nowhere he belonged, not now, not like this - nowhere.

But home wasn't a place. Matt. Oh God, how long had it been since he talked to Matt? 

* * *

  
"Come home."

"No. Not no - just - not yet."

"Just - I'm - I need - I'm asking you to come home."

He clutched the phone, blisters bursting in tiny bubbles of pain across his knuckles. "Matty - I'm pretty messed up, just - " Could he admit he had been too caught up in killing for money and being in love to remember Matt was - 

"I could help - "

"I don't want your fucking help, your pity, your whole 'blind lawyer yay' bullshit - I'm a goddamn monster and it's not - it'll never be the same."

The hiss of inhaled breath was like a wave of heat across his inflamed skin and he could picture the flare of his nostrils. "We're not together, you aren't being a dick to break up with me so I'm going to take all of that fucking personal. You put me down as next of kin, I got a notification of your death three years ago so for-fucking-give me for giving a damn."

"Wait, what?"

"I can't do this right now, I can't deal with - hallucinations don't call on the phone, do they?"

The fuck did the blind guy know about hallucinations? The clatter through the speaker kept him from ending the call before he lashed out at his next of kin - damn he'd been a stupid kid - and Matty was stupid - stupidly loyal - fucker still had the same number from his last leave -

"If you snap your stitches again, my aunt's going to give you the glare of judgment!" a new voice broke in and he couldn't make out the grumble from Matt in the distance. "Hi, hello, sorry about that, who is this please?"

"If you gotta ask then it's none of your business."

"Yeah, well, if you were a friend then you'd know better than to rile him up right now, lawyer, debt collector, telemarketer, whoever you are - "

The fuck - "It's Wade, his best friend - "

"Negative, try again, that guy died years ago, I can see his flag box right now - yeah, I know you can hear me, Matt and I don't care, talking to your latest hallucination over here."

"Latest? Look - can I please talk to Matty - "

"No wonder you freaked him out, nobody calls him that except his dad and he's been dead since before I was born," the stranger said.

"What do you know about his dad?" Nobody talked about Battlin' Jack but Matt or his pet priest - "I haven't been fake dead that long."

"Playing fake-dead is an asshole thing to do when there are people real-dying."

The fuck - how old is this kid? Since when does Matt let kids in his house?

Matt's voice and the kid's went distant but he couldn't end the call - he might be crazy as fuck but all of this was wrong.

Next of kin. Flag box. Oh no - that was never what he intended when he took the special ops gig - but wasn't one of the requirements to have zero blood relatives? Didn't he read the contract line for line like his best friend taught him?

"It's a real guy, Double D, you're still vibrating on all frequencies, pinky swear," the kid said and Wade could make out Matt's grunted response as a level eleventy on the depression scale.

"You heard me ask him, he can't come. Plan C is still a go."

"Absolutely. Button your shirt and talk to your friend, I mean, who else would call a phone that you keep in a shoebox? How do you charge it?"

Shoebox. Goddamn.

Matt's harsh voice filled the line again, phone returned to hand but probably no privacy. "Matt. I'm a mess but whatever's going down in Hell's Kitchen - "

"Where have you been? Shit, you know? Just - when did you stop - giving a damn? Because I'm really fucking tired of - are you - shit, are you all right? I'm so sorry, forget everything and tell me - "

He closed his eyes, eyelids more like flaps but doing the job. "I fucked up. Ain't good for you like this."

"Better than dead, or so they tell me. You know they give two for one specials to guys who start fistfights at funerals? Maria swears it's a good deal and they can't lock us up for anything we say or do not say without a lawyer present."

This was all wrong. "Maria, Frank's girl? You - "

"They treated me like a widow when they found out I got the notification, but you knew I kept up with the locals. For better or worse - just - if you're a mess then you shouldn't come 'til you hear the whole story and I - can't right now. I missed you. I hate you for that."

"Not enough to cancel the phone when you put my shit in your closet," Wade whispered. He took a deep breath and let it burn. "Hey. Buried a fiancee a couple of months ago. Been on a vengeance rampage with mixed results ever since but thinking about taking a break and getting back to my roots if I don't get arrested in Boston."

Matt inhaled and he wondered if it burned. "Fuck Boston. That close?"

"Not close enough for you to tell me what's going on. I'm sorry you didn't get to meet Vanessa. I'm sorry I couldn't come home without blood on my hands."

There was a shudder of air across the line. "Took a bullet to the thigh saving Lisa from a sniper but couldn't save Frank Jr. Maria shot Billy in the face and I couldn't do a fucking thing to stop her and now - Elektra's dead and Frank killed her murderer because - everybody's got blood on their hands but me and you drop that as the reason you can't pick up a goddamn phone?"

He had a whole argument queued up when the line went dead. It would have been epic - so epic that it proably deserved to go down face to face.

The fuck did 'Double D' mean anyway?

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! <3


	3. Chapter 3

  
Hell's Kitchen was quiet when he climbed off the bus. It was the last run of the night and he was grateful for all the drunk assholes too distracted by their own misery to bother giving him a double take, unmasked and wrung out.

Boston was resolved with a fat bag of cling-wrapped cash stuffed at the bottom of his bad and a clear conscience since the dead guys were legitimately bad dudes. He'd killed the money-man after he'd gotten the money so - resolved in all the best ways.

But Wade, woo, well, he was utterly unresolved.

Matt. Matthew Michael Murdock. Melts in the mouth mmm Matty - fuck his busted brain.

He should have been here months - years - ago, should've - should - goddamn.

He froze in place at the thought of letting any of his enemies know about Matt - look what happened to Vanessa - God, he fucked up - so many ways - 

"Hey. You're out a little late, aren't you?"

Wade looked at the wiry kid - and he was carrying a backpack so he wasn't confused about ages at the moment - and considered smushing him like a bug or calling for an adult. "How is that your business?"

The billboard was advertising a different brand than he remembered - of course he'd remember that fucking light-brite night-light now that it was flashing in his face.

The kid raised a hand and he twitched for his guns until he saw that it was a phone. Damn, he'd maybe gone a bit too far off the grid this time if he missed that.

"Are you absolutely sure, Double D? I think I can take him," the kid said, scanning him with dark eyes. "Fine."

The fuck?

The kid tucked the phone away and slid both arms into the backpack with a nod of his head. "Matt says you're here to see him, that true or are you planning on slinking back to whatever gutter you crawled out of?"

Wade pushed back his hoodie and blinked at the kid - but the punk didn't flinch at the sight of his scarred skin. "You gotta problem with me?"

"Depends on how much you plan on fucking up my friend." His phone buzzed. "Sorry, I know, language."

Oh. My. God. "How old are you? You banging my friend?"

"Ew, no and you'll regret asking me that later," he said. "Leave your guns on the roof, gunpowder is still on the list of triggers." The kid turned, jumped like a goddamn leapfrog and climbed the wall without jangling the fire escape. He was showing off - or dropping a challenge - but Wade was absolutely not done with talking shit to this kid. He made as much noise as he possibly could to catch up to him.

He made a show of putting his guns in the directed bucket but the kid turned him down when he asked if he needed to frisk him.

"I'm Peter, Matt's my lawyer and mentor for, certain things. More importantly, he's my friend and he's trying his very best not to be a dick on a school night so - "

The roof entrance opened and Wade forgot all about the minion and forgot all about forgetting. Matt. Matt Murdock. "Matty."

"Fuck you," he replied, tackling him to the hard roof with a knee to the balls. Wade snapped both arms around him, ribs shifting under his hands where they belonged and flipping him over and pinning him with a thigh while the kid flailed and hissed scolding at them.

"I missed you, fucker," Matt said, nailing him in the chin before he sank his teeth into his shoulder.

"Fuck, me too - damn," Wade squealed when he managed to dislodge his teeth and get a good look at him. "Oh, babe, what happened to you?"

He put both hands on Matt's face and he went still, just like always - oh - so he kissed him chastely to answer all the questions.

"Seriously?" Peter groaned from nearby.

Matt pulled back and scrambled to his feet, brushing off and then yanking him upright.

"Can you be normal for like, five more minutes until I lock up again?" Peter asked, hurrying over and dropping to one knee at Matt's side to poke at his outer thigh through the oversized sweatpants.

"Peter, this is Wade Wilson," Matt said, patting the kid's head to annoy him away from the bulge indicative of a bandage underneath.

"Doesn't look like the pictures your soldier friends showed me," Peter said suspiciously.

"Smells and sounds the same to me," Matt shugged. "I can lock up without your help, kid, please get your aunt off both our backs and go home."

"Answer your phone - new guy, make sure he answers his phone," Peter directed to each of them.

"Will do," Wade promised, lifting Matt bridal style and kicking open the door. "Bye, kid." He had a glimpse of two middle fingers before the kid took a dive off the roof. He didn't hear him hit the ground but a 'thwip thwip thwip' sound instead that he really didn't want to interpret.

"I'm only allowing this because I'm tired as fuck and your heart's pumping like you're about to pull another runner," Matt sighed into his neck, looping both arms.

"Nah, got too much to catch on here - but what's with the underage guard dog?" Wade asked, taking the stairs two at a time. "You dating his aunt?"

"Found him last year, got a heartbeat like a hummingbird and slipped him my card," Matt said. "Turned out he needed it. Good kid, sweet aunt."

There was a slight slur to his words before he placed him on the bed and Wade recognized a few of the meds on the table marked with tiny braille tags. "What's wrong with you? Since when do you get shot at?"

"Fucking marine assholes," Matt grunted, motioning to his leg. "I fight gangsters and ninjas, not psychopathic snipers with mommy issues - totally out of my wheelhouse."

Wade took his hand and Matt raised it to his mouth to kiss. "What happened to your skin, Wade? Why do you smell - sick?"

"Turns out I got the big C," he whispered. "Unlucky for me, also got a shiny X-Gene to make sure it never kills me. Probably a lot crazier than you remember, but - " Matt clenched his fists, bruised knuckles just like always - always. "I remember a lot more today."

Matt slid over and Wade accepted the invitation, kicking off his boots and taking his place.


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

  
_"You're not supposed to be here. You're dead."_

_Who you telling?_ Wade sat up and realized the voice wasn't inside his head. A girl sat cross-legged on the end of Matt's bed like **that** was a thing that happened. He reached over and shook Matt by the shoulder making him grunt. "Matt, where's the broom - there's a kid in here."

" _Lisa_. Where's your ma?" Matt mumbled after a moment.

"In the kitchen calling everyone she knows. Daddy's on the roof going through the stranger's guns. He says it's not breaking the restraining order as long as he doesn't come down the stairs, we measured it," the girl said, never taking her eyes off Wade.

Lisa. Lisa Castle. Fuck. "I know you - damn, kid, you're huge."

"Please don't use that kind of language in front of my daughter and take your hands off - " Maria, gorgeous and still way too good for Frankie, started from the doorway.

Matt raised his head. "Drop it. It's Wade." She closed her mouth and Matt rolled over with a wince.

"I don't see his crutches, was he on the leg again?" Maria asked, switching from defense to concern as she scanned the room.

"Peter confiscated them so I wouldn't get out of bed," Matt said. "Can you shower and dump - everything you own in the washer? You know I hate the smell of Boston."

"Right. Be right back," Wade said. "Raiding your closet but will respect your tags. I remember the importance of the tags."

 _"He get mind-wiped like Uncle Logan?_ " Lisa asked before he had the door closed completely.

 _"Don't know yet,"_ Matt answered.

 _"You're not getting into any mutant business - Daredevil is off the clock, okay? Are you listening?"_ Maria asked.

Wade switched on the shower and wondered what that red-horned vigilante had to do with anything. He'd seen the YouTube videos and spotted the escalating bounties on the guy's head - speaking of, what did Matt and Maria - and Logan the hell - know about mutants? 

The door opened and closed and Matt leaned heavily against the sink. "I told Maria she could do your laundry, they are a fucking LOT sometimes."

"I forgot how close you guys were, I think. Or maybe I didn't know? Definitely didn't know you were tight enough with Frankie to get in a fight."

"Maybe you should talk to him about it. He's not allowed within 300 feet of me until I'm off those fucking crutches," Matt hissed.

"And Logan?" Wade asked.

"Ain't seem him since they buried Jr., he didn't stick around to see how it ended - smarter than the rest of us. Can I tag in on that shower before she starts the washer?" Matt asked.

"Absolutely, I'll even do your back while you tell me why there's another fucking kid in your house. What happened to Jr.?"

Matt leaned his head against his bare back when he stepped into the shower with a swath of cling wrap around his thigh hiding a bandage dotted with blood. "Talk to Frank, or Curt, he's nearby."

"And Billy?"

"I have nothing to say about Bill," Matt said. "Ask Frank. You got questions 'bout Elektra - ask me, not them. Everybody's staying in their own goddamn lanes from now on - you're going to have to pick one - X-Men shit is a whole different highway."

Wade swiveled in the cooling shower and boggled at Matt as he was rinsing. "The fuck you know about - "

"I missed Wade Wilson, but I don't know shit about Deadpool," Matt said. "And you might have memories of Matt Murdock but you've never met Daredevil, so we're in a holding pattern until we do some consults."

Wait. **What**? "Wait - what?"

Matt put both hands on his shoulders, thumbing over the rumpled skin. "Nobody can handle another Bill and I can't - "

 _"Are you serious right now? Mom's going to flip."_ Lisa just walked into the bathroom? Matty's bathroom? The disrespect, the balls - he liked this child despite needing her to perish immediately.

"Can you tell your dad that Wade's coming up to talk to him?" Matt asked, snatching fresh towels through the safely opaque shower curtain.

"Yeah, Mom said to tell you she wants to check your leg before you put on sweatpants again."

"What happened to your leg anyway?" Wade asked, still trying to put Matt's pieces together and taking advantage of the outside 'consult' while she was doing her mom's cock-block duty.

"The bullet that killed my brother went through him first," Lisa answered evenly. " **Then** he got stabbed by some ninjas but I'm not **allowed** to talk about that."

"Please give us some privacy, kid," Matt sighed.

"Hey, I'm real sorry about your brother," Wade said.

She shrugged, halfway out the door. "Please pay your respects by making a donation to the _'parents against gun violence'_ organization, Mom will give you a flier."

Wow.

* * *

"Goddamn, what happened to you?" Frank asked gruffly, squeezing the fuck out of him.

"That is a long story with a lot of buttons you won't want to push - right now it's your turn," Wade replied, holding him at arm's length and shaking him hard. "The hell is going on, man? Your kid?"

"Surprised Red didn't fill you in - fuck."

"Said there are lanes and he's not allowed in yours, but I guess your wife is allowed all up in his business," Wade grumbled. "But your kid - who the hell - "

"Bill went nuts - or maybe was always nuts, Curt said he was playing the long game but - where the fuck were you?"

"Wait. That pretty boy Russo killed your kid?"

Frank's face twisted in a snarl. "Worse."

He tried to think of anything worse than losing a kid - 

"Had everybody on his side, me included - Red didn't say a fucking word, not a single thing to me and you know - wait, you know he has super-hearing, right?" Frank waited for his nod. "He fucking knew and told Maria first - he told her and - "

Wade vaguely remembered Matt's call. "She killed him."

"Not until after he set up a shoot-out to take out my family. Not until after - but she was smart about it, gotta give her that - got his confession on tape, sound went out right when he reached in his pocket and she shot him - bang - right in the face. Then the throat and his dick a couple of times, but the point is - "

Fucking hell. "Why would Billy come for you and yours? Had to be something more than jealousy, I mean, he's always wanted to get in Maria's pants but - "

"Wanted in your boy's too - busted his ass after your funeral to try and get a leg over him," Frank cut in. "You died."

"Didn't read all the fine print on my last special ops assignment. Fucked with my head, don't remember a lot - honestly didn't remember Matt until a few days ago. The skin thing is unrelated," Wade said.

"Well, Bill read the fine print and wrote in some of his own - made sure he kept all the connections when he took the discharge. Don't know why he chose me, but - fuck if it brings back my boy," Frank growled.

"I didn't even get to keep my memories and Russo kept - shit, Frankie. You kill 'em all?"

"Everybody I've linked to it, yeah, it's not a concern right now. Maria and Lisa are my only concerns," he said as if reciting a script.

"What about Matt? Why you fighting with him at your kid's funeral?" Wade asked in a low voice.

"Not Jr's funeral, the ninja - Elektra's. He's - mad at me for the wrong reasons and - " Frank raised both hands. "Maria and Lisa laid down the law, I won't mess with him until he's back on both feet, but he knows we're going to fucking talk about it - all of it - when that happens. Did you know her?"

"I remember he loved her and she left, but that was years ago, wasn't it?" Wade whispered.

"You need to talk to him, he's - we ain't seen him this messed up since *you* died and he's pushed most of his friends away because of the Daredevil stuff - which again I'm not allowed to talk about - " 

"Exactly how long as Matty been playing vigilante?"

"No 'play' about it, and I wouldn't know - Maria does, probably knows all kinds of shit since - "

The roof entrance banged open and he snapped his mouth closed as Lisa stepped out, closing the door carefully to avoid the same level of noise. 

She kicked the lock box lid closed and looped an arm around Frank's waist to lean her head against his side. "Mom's giving Matt permission for crutches and he says you can come downstairs if you promise to stop talking about his life choices." 

She dropped her voice to a whisper and added - "Mom says he's disappointed you're not grilling Mr. Wilson about where he's been so he can get the deets."

Poor, deluded child did not realize that Matt could still hear her but considering Frank's amused expression, he definitely did.

"We'll do it together, make everyone happy," Frank said, hitching her onto his hip and nodding his chin at Wade. "Come on, Wilson, your turn."

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

Matt was dressed in loose sweats with his bad leg elevated on a milk crate in front of him. He was sipping from a frothy cup of coffee - was that a cappuccino?

Wade ignored Maria's glare from behind the counter and squeezed onto Matt's cushion, snatching his fancy and completely inappropriate coffee. "Dude. Time out."

"You don't know shit about shit, don't start a fight in front of Lisa," Matt replied, snatching the coffee back and taking a sloppy slurp.

"Drinking fake sugar coffee and wearing sweats with no holes in them, still got the tag in the collar and you hate those poking at your neck - acting like some crippled loser that can't take care of himself - this ain't you - what happened to you?"

"You said you didn't remember me 'til, what, a week ago? The fuck you think you know about me?" Matt snarled.

"I know that it's like pulling teeth to get you to accept help - "

"How the hell would you know when you've never been around when I needed it?" Matt fired back. "You died, and even before that - when were you around to pitch in for rent or drive me to the doc or the bank or - Fuck - I can't even be mad because I don't know how much you remember - "

"I know you were always - " Always what, Wade? Always here? Always home? Always okay? "I'm sorry I forgot - "

"You had a life, a fiancee, a job - all that after you got wiped, you wouldn't have come looking for me if you hadn't remembered all of a sudden that you had a - "

"A best fucking friend that I didn't deserve - " Wade finished, yanking him into a hug so they could both catch their breath.

"So they're the kind of friends that have to yell it out before they hug it out, I get it," Lisa said, breaking the illusion that Wade was talking to his best friend without an audience.

"Matt, I'm taking Lisa to a playdate and will call your friend on the way for a mutant consult," Maria said, her glare sharper than he thought he deserved when she regarded him. "Setbacks are on you, Mr. Wilson, so be prepared."

"Oh my God, what do I have to do to get your chaperones off my back?" Wade hissed into Matt's shoulder.

"If we could trust him to stay off his leg and rest then he wouldn't need chaperones and so far you're not making a case of being trustworthy with that," Maria called from the doorway. Wade reluctantly released Matt from his hug and sank back into the couch.

"Mutant consult? I didn't think anybody was supposed to talk to Logan," Frank said, taking the seat, probably under Maria's instruction, on the chair across from the couch.

"I don't fuck with the military mutants, or the super smart ones, but Remy's all right," Matt said. "He can vet Wade before he goes to Logan."

Wade sighed and raised his hand. "Any reason I can't talk to the hairy bastard on my own?"

"He chose the mutant lane, not the military - he's got a lot of issues related to his service," Frank answered quietly, watching Matt like checking for a snake in strike distance. "He was a blank slate government assassin for a while, made a lot of enemies without remembering it."

Shit. "Stryker?"

"Mutants mess with space entities and weapons of mass destruction and time travel - " Matt grumbled.

"Logan's a lot older than anybody knew, his whole time with us was a - cold reboot," Frank sighed. "He's the guy you need to brainstorm with about memory wipes, not us. He's focusing on his source life, not all the ones in between - at least that's the last I heard."

"In case it comes up, and it won't - I fucked Logan a few times while you were dead," Matt said, clinging to the fancy coffee now that their emotions break was over.

Frank coughed and Wade was slightly - but not really - relieved that he didn't know. "I am now heartbroken, I can't believe you let that beast - "

"Banged him, too, it was a phase and has nothing to do with my non-affiliation with mutants," Matt added. "I need these rules to function - we are all choosing a lane and sticking with it. They can handle their world-annihilation problems on their own time, Frank can deal with his soldier bullshit - whatever - "

"Matt handles Hell's Kitchen and all the ninjas, like that's not crossing all kinds of lanes," Frank nodded slowly.

Matt frowned and Wade wondered if the restraining order was back on. "Wait, ninjas?" He turned to Matt. "Stick?"

"Fuck you," Matt said, but that was the automatic response he'd always had when Wade poked about his preteen sensei. "It's none of your business."

"Sorry, don't want you to get a 300 feet warning, forget it," Frank winked at him. Bastard. "Who's Stick?"

"If you trace back my trauma to Stryker, you can trace Matty's back to Stick, fucking asshole - did he come near you?"

Frank shook his head suddenly but his face was open with confusion. "Elektra, may she rest in peace, fought like Murdock. Like they had the same teacher - nobody else in the fight was on their side - it was a shit-ton of ninjas, man."

"Why were you even there?" Matt blurted out.

"Because you had ninjas following you and your girl disabled the tracker Maria put on your phone," Frank replied. "I didn't know you were mixed up in - whatever you were mixed up in - thought Daredevil fought gangsters and meth heads, not ninjas."

Wade took Matt's hand and squeezed. "Please tell me he's wrong."

"I'm not telling you anything, you keep Stryker, leave Stick to me," Matt grumbled into his coffee. "My trauma, my lane."

* * *

The man tilted his hat's brim to hide his eyes - like some kid of asshole - but a smooth asshole because he was murmuring in Matt's ear in a slow, easy tone that he couldn't make out across the room.

"You should have called, boundaries be damned," he made out before he recognized that he was speaking French - but not French-French - "Mais oui, I am familiar with your friend."

"Oh. You know Wade? I thought - Wade, this is Remy LeBeau."

Wade most definitely did not know this asshole who had both hands on Matt's body like he had permission - being dead was not supposed to lead to this and Matt was not supposed to be some kind of - 

"Trollop," he decided. "I don't know you, Asshole, the fuck you think you know?"

"Know you, went through a few years of hell, oui, not that you'd recall. Deadpool's been wiped for years, 'Cher, not the first time we've tangled but he's harmless - Professor said he was settled on the West Coast," Remy said, never taking his eyes off Matt as if he had a wager on his reaction.

"Does Logan know?" Matt whispered.

"He's doing his best to forget this plotline, likes to dance with the diable, oui, but he's très occupé," Remy said, guiding Matt to the couch gracefully without letting him put any weight on his leg. "School and missions, no time for friends."

Goddammit, he was always going to need a chaperone - how did he even - 

"Wade's not harmless, he can hold his own," Matt said and Wade clutched at his heart.

"Ça va, 'Cher, not meant as an insult, he is tout seul, like you - he's not hunting mutants and - as you say, mon frère, he stays out of the X-Men's lane," Remy grinned, tapping his hat.

"He's not your brother and you should keep your hands where I can see them," Wade frowned.

The man gave a wary nod and dramatically gave him jazz hands before rolling up his shirt to show off a matching set of scars - sword scars. Shit.

"Remember now?" Remy asked with sparkling eyes.

"No, but I bet my swords would," Wade sighed. "Shit."

"Je ne savais pas," Remy told Matt, kissing his forehead. "Did not know, Cher, but you always liked the danger. Won't let my lawyer get mixed up with le fou on my watch, leave him to Gambit."

Wait what?

"Allons, Wilson, let's take a walk, oui?" Remy asked, standing up. Matt gave him a nod, feeling Wade's look and - fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck.

"Thank you," Matt said when he stood up to follow the handsy flirt out of the apartment.

* * *

Remy was a grade A asshole and Wade thought they might be soulmates in another 'verse but he was loyal to Matt - hell, everyone around here was loyal to Matt - and hell if that didn't make him feel worse.

'Gambit' wasn't an X-Man or a soldier or a vigilante, he was a highly skilled crook with morals that skewed to the lighter edge of gray - soulmates for serious - and he gave Wade all the ins and outs of Matt's self-imposed boundaries.

Wade didn't want to save the world, he couldn't save Vanessa and all the people he wanted dead were already dead - all he wanted - all he fucking wanted - well, that was the thing, wasn't it?

He checked the roof and listened for ten minutes to make sure the apartment was clear of meddling civilians before he padded inside.

Matt was asleep on the couch under a handmade blanket of what looked like soft fleece and Wade avoided the wonky tripwires of shimmering thread, almost like web, that was set up around the room.

He carefully straddled Matt's knees, hovering inches above his face before his nostrils flared. He didn't open his eyes. "Learn anything?"

"Enough to know where I belong."

**Author's Note:**

> Title - FOB  
> Lyric tag - RKS


End file.
